swirling through his mind simmered down.
Nope, it didn’t seem fair to never know he was a father, but she’d called the shots, and unbeknownst to him he’d stood by in ignorance.
He could only imagine the nerve it took to drop that bomb, and how she’d had to swallow some major pride to apply for a job in his clinic in the first place. Had he been set up?
Something about her pouring out her heart to him after all these years, while having borne the burden of being a single parent for a kid who was half as much his as hers, made him zip through what was left of the shocked, angry and accusatory part. Before he realized what he was doing, he dropped to one knee to take her white-knuckle hands in his.
Her guts at finally telling him overrode his stunned reaction.
He studied her face. What the hell was he supposed to say?
“As you can imagine, I need some time to let this news sink in. I’ve never married and don’t have any kids, so the thought of being a father to a nearly thirteen-year-old son is mind-blowing.”
“I understand.”
She let him hold her hands, but still didn’t look at him.
“Your job’s safe.” Hell, he couldn’t very well kick the mother of his child out on the street, could he? Nor did he want to. He’d been anything but honorable way back then, turned out so had she, but that was all history and it couldn’t be changed. Right now was a chance to make up for it, and there was a kid in need of military school at stake. “But honestly, I’m going to need time to figure out what to do about the fatherhood part.”
“Of course.” Finally she engaged his eyes, looking amazingly earnest and so damn appealing, the expression grabbed his heart and squeezed it. Why did he still feel connected to her? Well, criminy, he was totally bonded to her by a kid, just didn’t know it until now! “I’m fine with keeping this strictly between us for now. I love my son and that will never change, and I don’t expect you to suddenly change your life. I’m just going for full disclosure here. New job and all.”
He patted her hand, thinking how soft and fragile it was, how right it felt cupped in his palm. “Give me some time to work this through, okay?”
“Okay, but first you’ve got to understand I’m not asking for anything but this job, Trevor.”
He nodded. “I believe you.”
“So let’s just keep this under wraps and move forward with my employment for now—is that okay?”
“If only it were that easy, Julie, but okay.” He stood, shaking his head like it might help put sense into the latest news. It didn’t. “At some point I’m going to want to meet him. Tell him.”
“If that time comes, we’ve got to do it together. Promise me that.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
She stood. “I won’t force it. Just so you know.”
He nodded again.
“So I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then?” A definite tentative tone to her question.
“Sure.” Still stunned, he didn’t have a clue what to do next, and his mind, in its currently baffled state, wasn’t exactly coming up with anything else to say either.
Julie headed for the door, her bulky winter coat over her arm, the conservative navy business suit she’d worn fitting her narrow waist and rounded hips perfectly. He glanced at her shapely calves, remembering how he’d liked her legs in short shorts that summer. Man, had that gotten him into trouble … and all these years he’d never even known just how much.
He scratched his head, curiosity causing him to ask. “Do you have a picture of James?”
She stopped and turned. “Of course. You want to see him?” A cautious yet agreeable glint in her eyes led to a flicker of that girl from all those summers ago.
“Please.” All kinds of new feelings buzzed around inside his body; his mind jumped from possibility to implausibility and back. He was a father?
She dug into her purse and produced a red leather wallet, opened it and immediately found a standard school photo and proudly showed it to him. “He’s tall for his age.”
He took it. If he’d doubted for one second that he’d actually been the father, he couldn’t very well do it now. And shame on him for even holding out a tiny hope it wasn’t true. The kid staring at him from the picture was a gangly version of himself at twelve or thirteen, but with Julie’s lighter brown, curly hair and freckles over the bridge of his nose. He suppressed his reaction, but was pretty sure she’d already picked up on it. That DNA couldn’t be denied.
“Thanks.”
“You want to keep it? I’ve got plenty more.”
Did he want to take the first step …? Hell, he’d done that thirteen years ago. “Sure. Thanks.” How could he refuse?
Julie gave a demure yet hopeful smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then.”
He tore his gaze from the photo and exhaled, then watched her walk down the hall to the exit. “I’ll be here.” Then he put the boy’s picture in his desk drawer and closed it.
What the hell was he supposed to do now?
Rather than head straight to the house and face his father, since the sun had poked out that afternoon, Trevor decided to take a ride on Zebulon to help work through the residual anger directed at his newest employee. He also needed to check the area that his smartphone mapping app said was down. Until grazing-management technology was able to produce virtual fences and cattle headgear, he’d continue to do things the old-fashioned way—by hand. And today he’d use this possible boundary breach as an excuse to avoid facing his father. Besides, he needed more time to run the latest news through his brain—for about the hundredth time since Julie had told him he was a father.
He’d come home after graduating from college to help out on the ranch before heading off to medical school. He’d learned to work hard and play hard back then—he’d even finished his undergraduate work in three years instead of the usual four—and every weekend that summer, after helping out on the ranch, he’d hit whichever party in town that had promised the most ladies. Because he’d deserved it. At least, that was what he used to tell himself.
Sitting atop Zebulon, his buckskin Appaloosa, Trevor felt the frigid air cut through his lungs. He inhaled deeper, hoping the burn might shock some sense into him. Yet so far, he couldn’t get Julie and James Sterling, his ready-made family, out of his mind.
Back then, the year he’d met her, word had traveled fast in their tiny town, and it had always been easy to find out about the weekend hangouts. It hadn’t taken much to make a party. An old abandoned barn or a campfire ring, some bales of hay to sit on, car radios for music. The gatherings, as they used to call the weekly events, had always been well attended.
At twenty-one, he hadn’t been a teenager anymore, but he’d gotten used to partying on weekends at the university, so he’d gone. Got treated like near royalty as a college grad, too. And that was the first time he’d noticed Julie. He’d asked one of his buddies who she was and he’d told him she was seventeen and had just graduated from high school. They’d spent most of that summer checking out each other, but something had kept Trevor from approaching her. He hadn’t had any plans that included getting involved with a girl, not back home anyway, and maybe he’d instinctively known she might be trouble. Trouble? With that sweet face and sinful body?
Oh, yeah, trouble—big trouble. And damned if he hadn’t walked right into it.
“Will you dance with me?” she’d asked that night, looking all innocent and pretty as summer itself in a little flowery sundress. It had been the last weekend before he was set to leave for Boston University School of Medicine. He’d held out all summer, but something about the way the campfire had outlined her wild